


Lord Argent

by goddessofcruelty



Series: Big House [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-24
Updated: 2014-05-24
Packaged: 2018-01-26 09:40:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1683713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goddessofcruelty/pseuds/goddessofcruelty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter reached back and patted the saddlebags, smirking as they clinked. They were full of jewelry old what's her name probably wouldn't notice was missing for days.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lord Argent

**Author's Note:**

  * For [seraphim_grace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seraphim_grace/gifts).



> Prompt: I want to see the accident that sees Peter as Lord Hale, I want to know why Chris was elsewhere

“I don't know!” Lydia huffs, hands on hips. “All I know is that Jennifer said that notice had been given.”

Her mother rolls her eyes. “Well, how are we supposed to prepare? We don't even know his _name_! And why is the heir so damn far away?”

Lydia brightens. “Now, that, I _do_ know.”

She nabs a cookie. “Apparently the old Lord, may he rest in peace, had two daughters. The one married well but was barren. The other joined a convent.”

Lydia nibbles on her cookie a moment.

“They had to go through the family tree and dig up some grandchild of a third cousin or something. It took Stiles nearly a month to figure it out.”

Mrs. Martin shook her head. “Is he even really a Lord? I mean, raised properly?”

The redhead wipes her fingers free of crumbs and shrugs. “Nobody has any idea. All we have is the name of the town he was from.”

Mrs. Martin sighs and nods. “Well, I suppose we will have to be as ready as we can, and ready to alter plans at the last minute.”

-

Peter stroked his hand down the mane of the purebred mare he's riding down the road on. She was beautiful, truly, even one who wasn't particularly cognizant of horse breeding could admire her lines. She was a mount for a king. And he'd gotten her for a few nights warming a Lady's lonely bed.

Peter reached back and patted the saddlebags, smirking as they clinked. They were full of jewelry old what's her name probably wouldn't notice was missing for days.

The purse at his hip was full as well, filled with silver coins nicked from her safe one by one. Sleight of hand was something Peter found incredibly useful.

The most difficult thing to steal had been the clothes, actually. She'd been remarkably recalcitrant about her late husband's things, keeping them locked in his room as a shrine.

Peter had been forced to break into that room, and smuggle the fine things out tucked inside his own, less fancy, outfits.

Now, now he's feeling pretty damned good about himself. Peter got everything, and more, that he could get from the old hag, and now he's on the road enjoying the sunshine.

So when he's riding through the town, and a crazy looking guy hails him, Peter lets his horse come to a halt.

“You must be the new Lord! I'm Mayor Finstock, but you can call me Bobby. Everyone else does, well except for John. He calls me cupcake. Y'know, I'm not sure how that even started. Could have been the time I fell into the cake at Lydia's wedding. You see, they had these little cakes that were just precious and the ones in front were taken, but there were some in the back and I was reaching for them-”

“Bobby! Where did you? Oh!” A woman comes around the corner and covers her mouth in surprise, and then strides up to the two men.

“Ah, this is the new Lord, just rode into town. Lord Argent, this is-”

“Oh, he don't care who I am, you just leave His Lordship alone.” She directs her attention to Peter, who has rapidly lost track of the conversation.

“Are you hungry, sir?”

That Peter understands, nodding to her. “Sustenance would be a tremendous kindness, ma'am.”

“Oh would ya listen to that fancy talk,” he hears her mutter to herself as she scoots around the corner. Peter smiles in a way that he hopes is magnanimous and directs his horse where the oddball mayor shows him.

By the time he's tied off the horse, which the mayor seems to think is named Strawberry for some reason, and listened to some tangent about wolves from the man, Peter is somewhat annoyed.

He's wishing he'd just rode on through, but then the thief goes into the inn, and it's _packed_ with people.

Peter blinks and looks around, confused when they all look at him expectantly.

Fortunately (maybe), Finstock is up to the task and starts giving a speech. Apparently, he has several of them memorized. This one seems to be about the hazards of winter or something.

A short redhead pulls Peter aside and introduces herself as Lydia.

“I'll be your new housekeeper once Jennifer's finished tying up the old Lord's loose ends.”

Peter's about to set her straight, but then she mentions a castle and refers to him as the heir, and greed rears its ugly head.

No way he's walking away from that.

So Peter shrugs, nods confirmation about Lydia's appointment as housekeeper, and enjoys the party in his name.

Or rather Lord Argent's name, wherever the poor sod happens to be.

Because Peter's been given a gift, handed a castle and an inheritance, and by god, he's going to milk it all he can.


End file.
